


The Inverse of Pride.

by glanmire



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Canon fic, Gen, Mansion Fic, holocaust survivor, tattoo shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glanmire/pseuds/glanmire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mansion!fic during First Class. </p><p>Erik does not want the others to see the tattoo of numbers that has been inked into his arm for as long as he can remember- he will not have children pitying him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inverse of Pride.

It is infuriatingly hot outside. Erik does not know what month it is- sometimes he forgets what year it is- but it is too hot either way. He only has a small suitcase with him- no matter what he tells Charles, he doesn’t intend on staying long- and all his clothes are in exceedingly good taste, yet totally unsuitable for this ridiculous weather.  
Outside, Charles is trying to rally the troops; the children are having a water fight. Erik hears their screams and Charles’ good-natured calls to please can we start the days training now and then no Raven, don’t you dare-  Erik smiles at that, and turns back to his clothes. Unfortunately there will be no turtlenecks today, or leather jackets for that matter. He regards the only t-shirt he had had the foresight to pack- a grey cotton thing, all creased and lined. Erik wonders where in this damnably large house he could find an iron. There probably isn’t one to be found- from what he has heard about Charles’ mother, she doesn’t sound like the type to do the washing. They probably sent everything to be dry-cleaned. It’s a far-cry from Erik’s childhood, and yet Charles is not to blame for that. 

He pulls the t-shirt over his head and tries to ignore the wrinkles that cover every inch of the thin fabric. He is just about to go outside and aide Charles with the water-fight situation when he considers his tattoo.  
The numbers that are inked onto his arm have been part of him for so long Erik often forgets that other people do not have them too, and yet it would be a mistake to think that the others would not notice. Charles probably knows already- what doesn’t that man know, after prodding around in Erik’s mind?- but the children don’t. Erik doesn’t think that Sean or Alex would notice or care- they’d most likely think he had jotted down a phone number if they even saw the tattoo at all- but Hank would see it and understand, and Erik doesn’t think he can take pity from a boy with hands-for-feet today. 

He walks to the window. “Raven?” he calls out. “A moment?”  
Raven looks up at him, a hose in her hand. “Sure,” she says, dropping the hose and soaking Alex in the process, who lunges for it.  
Raven is wearing the usual blonde body today, and Erik does not think she will have what he is looking for. Why would a girl who could change her appearance at will have make-up? 

She’s inside his bedroom in moments, looking around eagerly, still soaking, but as her blue self, as she knows he prefers it. Erik cuts to the chase. “Do you have make-up Raven?”  
She smiles at him a little condescendingly. “What, do you feel like looking pretty today Erik?”  
“No,” he says bluntly and thrusts out his arm. “I’d like to cover this up.”  
Raven regards the arm cooly, and looks back up at him, the humour gone. “Of course. I’ll run down to my room and get it. Just- just don’t get in the water-fight, alright, or it might run off.”  
“Okay,” he says, for a lack of anything else to say. He feels oddly embarrassed but pushes down the feeling. He will not ruin the fun and make people think about the-little-Holocaust-survivor, and how brave he was. He’d prefer to hide it than face that. 

Raven comes back with a bottle in her hand. From the pump comes a liquid that he’s relieved to see roughly matches his skin-tone. Raven says nothing as she dabs it onto his arm and rubs it in, and Erik watches with something close to awe as the mark fades away like it never existed at all.  
Only when she is finished does Raven speak. “You know, for a guy who talks a lot about being mutant and proud and all that ideology, and that I shouldn’t hide who I am, you’re doing just what you told me not to do. This is hiding.”  
Erik tenses but does not reply. Once she realises he is not going to argue with her Raven leaves again, the distaste still etched upon her blue features. Erik pauses for another moment and he pulls at the t-shirt in vain, to try and make it less crinkly. He quickly gives up and walks outside, to the sunshine and to Charles.


End file.
